


Frontierbuster

by FergardStratoavis



Category: Goblin Slayer (Anime), Goblin Slayer (Manga), Goblin Slayer - Kagyu Kumo, God Hand (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FergardStratoavis/pseuds/FergardStratoavis
Summary: Now here's a story no one ever asked for: four Porcelain adventurers stumbling into not just an anti-Goblin specialist, but also some schmuck in a stupid coat... who happens to be a Gold adventurer with a penchant for hilarious hand-to-hand violence. The bigwigs of the world aren't very interested in The Frontier - which is why these six will have to stop an evil plot at large. Goblins are involved, so all's well in the world.





	1. Chapter 1

The atmosphere at Water Town was tense, to say the least.

It was here where the gathering of the kingdom’s finest Adventurers was currently taking place. The King’s direct order was it was here, under the auspices of the Sword Maiden, that the discussion regarding the recent Demon Lord’s threat would proceed. Most of Gold Adventurers had already arrived at the cathedral, paying their respects to the ever-tired monarch. The Platinums were more casual with him, but it was through their work that this kingdom and this world still stood strong despite weekly troubles with forces of evil.

There was, however, one Adventurer in particular who was missing.

“...where is God Hand again?” Sword Maiden resisted an urge to sigh. Oh. Of course it was God Hand that was missing. Ever a rebellious free spirit, even when blessed with such great power from the divine providence. Well, less a “rebellious free spirit” and more a “fight-looking hothead”. The Frontier had no challenges that could possibly threaten him or even amuse him long enough though, so odds were he was just slacking off somewhere, with complete disrespect for any authority but his own.

“I believe he left recently to, quote, take in the sights, unquote.” The King’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he looked at the ceiling, trying and failing to appear as a patient personage.

“God Hand is that guy with a stupid-looking coat, right?” Demon Hunter asked idly from over his newspaper, not even attempting to look interested.

“Oh, the cut on that is dreadful.” Sorceress of Creation added from her seat, as always practicing her unusual abilities of bringing matter into being. “Well, Hatchet Girl should bring him back shortly. She’s the one person that knows how to keep a leash on him.”

“You’d think a man like that would be unafraid of a simple hand axe, and yet here we are.” It would be more amusing for the Sword Maiden if not for a fact that God Hand was, through the possession of his divine boon, an important religious figure in quite a few religions of the Praying Races (nor could they decide from where the magnificent arm that gave him this name originates). His sheer audacity regarding, well, everything rankled her not just as as a former Adventurer, but as a religious person of her own cut.

Speaking of hand axes, the doors to the main room were opened with a loud bang. In strolled the aforementioned Hatchet Girl – not a registered Adventurer herself, merely God Hand’s handler – looking absolutely livid. “Where the hell is he?!”

“So much for keeping a leash on.” The King sighed. “Well, whatever. Someone can relay the information to him later on. There’s a realm to be rescued, and we can’t afford to wait.”

“Naturally, Your Highness. Hatchet Girl, if you’d be so kind to accompany us on the meeting...”

“Bah! He is so in trouble once I get my hands on him...” Despite looking terribly ordinary, the hatchet emitted malevolent energy that could probably fell any mighty being with a single swing. Nobody knew how it worked, and nobody felt like questioning it.

\----

Meanwhile, in an insignificant goblin nest near an insignificant Frontier Town…

“That was _so cool!_ ’” Monk was in absolute awe of the newcomer’s fabulous strength. How could one not be when presented with such amazing feats? The man had just sent a “hobgoblin” - a bigger offshoot of the usual green menace – flying with a single kick. If stars could dwell in one’s eyes, they would sure be in this rookie martial artist’s.

“Man, I haven’t fought goblins in so long, it almost feels welcome. Almost, the green little assholes.” The man introduced himself simply as a God Hand to the four-man team of Porcelains heading for a goblin extermination quest. He wore no tag to his name, and Wizard thought that his coat is a horrendous offense to any fashion whatsoever – especially with that stupid split skull design on it – but it quickly became apparent that the man knew what he was doing. The Warrior’s role as the leader of the team quickly became superfluous as he did his best not to openly voice his displeasure with the thunder being stolen from him and the rest of their group.

The Earth Mother’s Priestess, for one, was happy that they had a strong person actually providing aid to them. Weak or not, goblins still were deathly dangerous, and if there were more such hobgoblins around, it would be prudent to have this God Hand with them – even if he seemed a bit too eager to find another one. “So, you kids here on your first quest ever or what?”

“Well, yes. We were planning to clear the nest and advance to the next rank.” Warrior replied.

“You guys? You guys are weaksauce.”

“Are not! And goblins are even more weaksauce, anyway!”

“Oh yeah, tough guy? How would you fight that hob?”

“I’d… think of something.” Warrior’s defensive response only earned him an amused chortle from God Hand. The young rookie was livid. “Yeah, well, we don’t need _you_ around!”

“We kind of need him.” Wizard intoned flatly. “He’s been a huge help, even if he could stand to talk a little less.”

“Come on, guys, you’re being too harsh on him. He’s so sublime.” Monk was, for her part, absolutely awestruck still. “Did you see his technique? That is the stuff of legends! Back me up there, Priestess!”

“What? Oh, sorry, I was just, uh, thinking about something else. Why are you named a God Hand, sir?” Their unlikely companion merely flexed his right arm, the one adorned with an ornate silver brace, in response. “Is that… an actual arm of a god?”

“Beats me. Helps me beat the tar out of baddies though.”

“Come on, don’t feed his ego.” Warrior groused. “He’s skilled, fair, but that’s reaching.”

“That’s what the Hatchet Girl says, at least. Supposedly this baby used to belong to some warrior of the eons past.” God Hand stopped and turned to look at them. The man was fair-looking, if a bit rough-and-tumble, with a little bandaid on his face that seemed more decorative than helpful, with light brown hair, slicked back and signifying a devil-may-care attitude. “...if any of you twerps tells on me to her, I’ll give you a God Noogie.”

“...he calls it a God Noogie. Of course he does.” This time Monk opted to bump Warrior with her elbow.

“W-why would we tell on you, sir?” Priestess asked. Something was certainly amiss. There was no trace of goblins whatsoever. After the initial brawl the greenskins retreated deeper into the cave, but was there really not even a token attempt from them to fight back?

“I might have skipped on a meeting with a King.” That gave the rookies pause. “Figured that I’m not needed there.”

“W-w-why wouldn’t you be needed?!” It was the Wizard that was the most incredulous (Warrior having exhausted his incredulous quota for the day, and still threatened by Monk’s elbow). “If a King wants to meet you, you go meet him!”

“Psh. It’s fine.” God Hand – proving to be as important politically as his big name would imply – waved off her concerns cheerfully. “A fighter ain’t worth nothing if he has nothing to warm up on. Speaking of which – oi, uglies! Am I gonna have to start singing?!”

“S-should we really be rousing goblins in their own cave?” As it turned out, they shouldn’t have.

The green tide came out from ahead, lead by another hobgoblin – no, something even bigger and meaner than the brute from earlier. This one carried a wicked-looking jagged sword as big as Warrior was tall, and ramshackled armor. His frame was rippling with muscles as it barreled towards the hapless party, running over his lesser brethren without a care in the world.

“Hell yeah, now we’re talking. Get back, kids, and watch the master at work.” Completely unafraid of the oncoming green horde, God Hand merely assumed a combat pose, beckoning the terrifying Goblin Champion closer. The rookies, for their own part, were more than happy to fall back and get clear. Here was hoping that this strange martial artist was capable enough to keep them from getting slaughtered.

Unfortunately, the imminent fight ended before it began, with a knife flying right into a Goblin Champion’s eye and making it stumble and flop backwards, howling curses in their own speech as its sheer size blocked the smaller goblins from actually going past. God Hand stared incredulously, long enough that one of the greenskins managed to sneak up on him – but this one too was thrown to the side with a well-aimed throwing knife, squealing in pain.

“...reckless.” A flat voice reached them from the depths of the corridor. The armored figure emerged from the darkness, covered in grime and goblin blood. “Porcelains are still alive though. Good.”

“Hey, do you mind?” God Hand grumbled, deciding that caving the writhing Champion’s skull in with a stomp would have to suffice for quality entertainment. With the death of their leader, the goblin horde retreated without much prompting. “I was trying to style on that guy.”

“Is that so?”

“U-um… a-are you an Adventurer, sir?” Priestess asked. It was a rhetorical question – unlike the God Hand, this knight wore a very telling Silver tag on his neck.

“Well, we’re not getting any reward for this quest if a Silver just showed up...” Warrior grumbled.

“I’m fine with not taking the reward.” The Silver Tag replied with the same emotionless voice, soldiering on. There was no need to check that Champion – with a skull crushed into fine powder, it was dead enough for his tastes. “You’re ill-prepared.”

“Excuse you?”

“Your sword is too big.” Now that the other rookies thought about it, Warrior’s broadsword did get stuck on the ceiling earlier… “Minimal to no armor on all of you. No antidotes. Would have died if not for that man.” The Silver Tag didn’t seem to want to continue that dialogue for much longer, turning his attention to God Hand. “Were you counting the goblins?”

“What am I, an Abacus Hand?”

“That’s a no then.” Still, it was likely that the goblins underestimated him – and were lured in by the scent of three female rookies over there – and had no time to reflect on that. The sheer destructive force of that fighter made it a likely possibility. “Shaman?”

“Didn’t see none.”

“Must be deeper in the cave then.” If he was there at all – that Champion was not here the last time Goblin Slayer assessed the force dwelling in the nest. A Champion could, in fact, be a tough enemy to overcome if not for the fact that pretty much every single goblin in the cave would now see red when God Hand showed up in sight. Riling them up seemed to be his specialty. “You, Porcelains. Stick close. Try not to run off. Watch your backs. Goblins may circle from around.”

“Y-yes, sir...” Priestess mumbled.

\----

The party continued on, meeting no resistance from the goblins whatsoever. The few strays that didn’t run off in time met a swift end to Goblin Slayer’s – apparently such was the name of the Silver Tag – throwing knives. They’ve met a hobgoblin on their way to the nest’s heart, but it seemed completely disinterested in opposing them, merely bowing its head down in a pose of supplication, begging for mercy.

“...man, even the big ones are afraid now.” Monk, once she shook off her starry-eyed awe, was more alert than ever. The presence of the sober-minded Goblin Slayer did help in making her and the others think a little clearer.

“You think this one learned his lesson?” Priestess asked uncertainly, watching as God Hand and Goblin Slayer exchanged knowing glances. The grime-covered knight stepped back after a long, pregnant silence. The hobgoblin remained in a begging pose, hoping that this little ploy might actually catch one of those adventurers unawares. Even with its bulk and strength, it was a cowardly goblin at heart.

“You guys ever heard of baseball?” The odd question from the odd martial artist raised some eyebrows from the rookie party.

“It’s that sport some elves enjoy… why?” Wizard asked, feeling that she might not like the answer. God Hand merely pulled his god arm back as if planning to strike the hob, only for a celestial mace to appear in it.

“There’s nothing quite like the feeling of hitting a home run.” God Hand extended his other hand towards Goblin Slayer who gingerly handed him some small spherical object. The martial artist in a stupid coat examined it briefly, letting it hop in his head. “Especially if you can find some big dumb schmuck who thinks he can get away with that cheap trick.”

The hob realized immediately that it was being discussed; fat lot it did to it. It rose its head sharply just in time for the spherical object – an incendiary grenade with a delayed explosion time – to smack it right into its bulbous nose. The sheer force of the improbable attack launched it barreling down the corridor where it went off with an infernal blaze.

“Alright, that’s all she wrote!” God Hand gave the celestial bat one more swing before dispersing it in a heavenly light. The screams of cooked goblins were a music well-earned. “Guess it’s time to go back and take a pint of victory.”

“Not yet.” Goblin Slayer shook his head. “Still need to clear out the goblin children and to find the abducted women.”

“Wait, they abduct women?”

“It’s common knowledge.”

“Cut me some slack there. I haven’t been around for a while.” From what you’ve heard about the goblins in the Capital and associated major lands, you wouldn’t think the greenskins were much of a menace; just a mildly upsetting occurrence that stole cattle and resources.

“...did you say “goblin children”?” Warrior asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Can’t let them live.”

“Whoa whoa, wait a second. We can’t kill children! That’s… that’s not right, even if they’re goblins.” Monk objected fervently. Goblin Slayer did not deign her with a look.

“Which is why I will be killing them. Rest easy.”

“Think of them as midgets. Evil angry midgets.” God Hand threw in his own commentary.

“If it helps you understand why doing this is necessary.”

“I don’t think we should...”

“If the children are not killed, they will escape the nest and become Wanderers. Once they learn enough of the world, they will make their own nests, with experience of the past which will make them that much more dangerous.” Goblin Slayer shrugged slightly. “It’s a chore to be done.”

\----

Eventually they stumbled into the heart of the nest. Most goblins there, including the earlier-mentioned Shaman, appeared long dead, lying still and motionless. Naturally, they were playing possum. Goblin Slayer knew they could and have done that. “...they’re all dead…?” Priestess asked, unaware of the trickery at hand. The Silver Tag was silent, merely producing another set of throwing knives…

“Oh **man** , it’s a crying **shame** that all these **goblins** are dead!” God Hand strode forward casually. “I guess it’s a **good** thing we don’t have to fight them though, since **all of us** are tired and exhausted **after** the big ones! The **three young nubile women in our team** are all very happy they can **lay down** **their arms** and **take it easy**!”

“...that cannot possibly work...” Wizard muttered under her breath. Goblin Slayer stared at God Hand making a fool of himself before sheathing all knives but one and producing a bomb not unlike the one from earlier instead. Right on cue, the previously “dead” bunch of goblins swarmed towards God Hand, seeking to rip him apart.

“Close your eyes.” Goblin Slayer simply said before chucking the bomb towards where the still motionless Shaman was at. The sphere exploded into a flash of blinding light, incapacitating the usually nocturnal bunch of greenskins. The knife went for the Shaman almost immediately after, ensuring his swift death. “Clear them.” He went in first with a simple dirk, stabbing at the first unfortunate goblin in the way. Porcelains, having recovered enough to join in, aided the extermination in their own way. Warrior’s sword proved big enough for this particular room, letting him score multiple kills with each swing. Monk’s swift blows dealt with those still keeping their wits about them, and the remaining straggler was finished by Wizard’s Firebolt.

By all means, this was a simple, clean-cut operation, with a single slight: the high and mighty God Hand curled up on the ground, holding his face and muttering petty curses under his breath. Goblin Slayer stared for a moment. “You, Priestess. Do you have a healing miracle?”

“Ah, well, yes...”

“Aid him. Monk with me.” The other martial artist wasn’t sure where else to go – the abducted women were over there, huddled in a corner and currently being reassured by Warrior and Wizard both – at least not until the Silver Tag revealed a secret door behind the Shaman’s bone throne. In there, in a small room, huddled goblin children. Monk’s eyes widened as she stared at the small, pudgy beings that couldn’t possibly be able to harm a fly…

Goblin Slayer handed her a length of mace, a grim-looking bludgeon. “If you try to hit them with your hand, they might bite you.” Himself seemed content to use the dirk from earlier, still red from goblin blood all over it.

“W-wait. Is this really necessary?”

“Let me put it like this: if it was just you and that God Hand in this cave, you would no doubt emerge unscathed and victorious, but you would not learn. You would not understand what goblins are and what must be done to be rid of them.” Dispassionately, Goblin Slayer dug the thrusting blade into the first whelp’s throat, making it gurgle ignominiously before it expired, choking on its own blood. “You would make the same” Stab. “mistakes” Stab. “like the ones here.” Stab.

Monk stared, feeling like her legs were rooted to the cave floor, both mesmerized and disturbed at the inhuman, methodical culling of the goblin children. One of them slipped past and squealed for help, ducking between her legs and hiding behind, looking up to her for support. “God Hand, for all of his power, would not know of this hidden door. He would let the weak enough goblins run away. They wouldn’t be fun enough to kill.” Goblin Slayer seemed indifferent to the whelp hiding behind the Monk, begging her for help, methodically stabbing at its brothers one after another. Terrified screaming decreased in numbers, bit by bit.

“I-I...”

“The survivors would make a new nest, this time experienced and learned. Villages would be harassed, women abducted. Eventually they would grow strong enough to lead an all-out assault. Dozens would perish.” Soon enough, only the whelp covering behind her remained. “...that makes it twenty eight. One last goblin remains.” Slowly, Goblin Slayer turned to face her. Time slowed down to a crawl. With a deep sigh, Monk put away the mace and reached down to pick up the goblin child, watching it from up close, held securely at arm’s length. It was as hideous as the adult goblins, but something about its softer features and chubbier shapes made it seem harmless, as a normal child would be seen. It squealed once more, a desperate plea for help.

The girl closed her eyes, screamed and dashed the goblin child against the stone floor.

\----

“Thank you for your hard work!”

To be honest, Guild Girl was feeling antsy. The Porcelain team that went on a goblin-slaying quest had yet to return. With three women in the team, this felt like a bad proposition indeed. Furthermore, Goblin Slayer that went on the same quest hadn’t returned yet either. They couldn’t possibly all be killed, could they?

No no, dash that thought away. They were probably just taking extra time with securing the abducted women. Plus, Goblin Slayer would likely doublecheck the entire cave to make sure no greenskin was left alive. Speak of the devil, he showed up at the door, walking with the same mechanical stride. As a much pleasing surprise, the whole Porcelain team was with him! They looked quite worn out – the martial artist girl in particular – but otherwise didn’t seem harmed in any way – not even a meaningful ruffle on their clothes.

The man in a stupid coat that shuffled into the building last, rubbing his eyes like something persistent got in and refused to budge, Guild Girl did not recognize. “I’ve slain all goblins.” Goblin Slayer announced with the same emotionless inflection. “These five helped.”

“I carried that whole quest, and all I got was a flashbang to the face.” Man In A Stupid Coat grumbled in response, approaching the desk. “Well, at least the view’s nice. Didn’t know Frontier staff is that fine. What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?” Guild Girl suddenly felt that perhaps taking the evening shift wasn’t the best course of action for her. The man didn’t wear any tag on him, but if he came with Goblin Slayer, then he had to be at least competent. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I don’t wear that stupid thing out of habit.” He reached down his coat, producing a tiny piece made of gold.

Everyone stared at the Gold Tag like it was a dragon showing out of the blue. “...what?”

“Hm.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “That does explain a few things.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, to recap!”

“...I don’t think you should be drinking anymore.”

“Damn right I will!” Warrior raised his mug with a hiccup, looking more than inebriated. “My life’s a joke, I’m telling you...”

It’s been three days since their fateful meeting with both God Hand and Goblin Slayer. The former didn’t get to stay around, making a swift escape against some crazy woman with a hatchet. The latter was more of a busy bee instead, taking on a goblin quest after a goblin quest. Having seen how crafty and murderously merciless the little monsters were, Priestess had to wonder just how committed and broken one had to be to willingly go into goblin caves and methodically cut them down one after another.

“You okay there?” Monk nudged her gently with an elbow, making the blonde jump in alarm. “You really spaced out, huh.”

“Oh, sorry, was just… thinking.”

“I guess you are overthinking in place of our leader’s underthinking.” Wizard commented sourly, sipping her own ale. It seemed that the sole man of the party was the weakest when it came down to alcohol tolerance.

“I’m… I’m not!” Warrior slurred, shaking his head vigorously. The Obsidian tag on his neck – a proof of a goblin extermination quest well done – shook violently. None in the party really believed they deserved them. All heavy lifting was done by the two veterans – one of whom casually revealed himself to be a Gold Tag, and therefore a man who normally handled national crises – while they just took in notes, cleaned up the goblins at the end and, in Monk’s case, got to play basketball with goblin children.

That goblin whelp did not die immediately.

“Well, we should try to find something more leisurely for work.” Wizard continued, adjusting her glasses idly. “There’s a bigger access to quests for us now that we have advanced up a rank, but we should probably stick to small-time quests for the time being.”

“There’s some minor zombie infestation on a nearby graveyard.” Monk pointed out, looking at Priestess again. The blonde flushed in embarrassment.

“Oh, um… I don’t really have any anti-undead miracles.”

“That’s a bummer.” The brunette leaned back, looking over to another table where some higher-ranked Adventurers were celebrating their own finished quest. “Hmm… what about wild animals?”

“We could do that. With the money from Goblin Slayer, we have enough to buy appropriate equipment.”

“I’m not l-letting go of that sword… that’s… a family heirloom…!”

“Alright, alright, of course you don’t.” Monk rubbed the bridge of her nose before standing up. “Come on, Warrior, you’ve had enough ale today.”

“N-no… the shame’s too great, I-”

“Come on. See you guys later.” Slowly, but surely, the brunette opted to simply drag her troublesome childhood friend out of the hall by the scruff of his neck, accompanied by some minor chuckling from other patrons. Wizard watched them go from above her own mug.

“He forgot he bought it from the blacksmith for cheap.” She mumbled, shaking her head.

\----

The four of them had a single room at the inn in Frontier Town. The price was accommodating enough to stay, especially since lower-rank Adventurers received a small discount there. Of course, there were certain disadvantages of sharing a room with three other people – one of whom was an easily excitable boy – so for her part, Priestess stayed at the Earth Mother’s shrine for the last two days. Still, it would be prudent to actually try and get to know her team a little better, even if Warrior was out like a light.

The blonde was making her way through the streets, idly taking in the sights. Frontier Town was a sleepy little community, just about big enough to accommodate Adventurers and middle-sized business. It had its irresistible charm, and she quite liked it. Priestess knew that Wizard was less than enthused about the place, coming from the big city, but them were the breaks.

On her way to the inn however, she had a fateful meeting.

The man was tall and handsome, in a white coat – it kind of resembled God Hand’s stupid coat, she realized, but was much sleeker and smarter – and with a striking tattoo on his left arm. Despite the evening, he wore sunglasses. Striding confidently forward with incredible, radiating arrogance, he seemed less like a man and more of some kind of demi-god. Placebo effect’s a drug, let me tell you.

Priestess, deciding to make herself look as small as possible, opted to simply go right past him, and for a moment it seemed that her dream of undisturbed evening would come true – only for the confident stride of the White Coat to stop.

“You there. Priestess.” Slowly, the man turned. “A moment of your time, if you please.”

“Y-yes?” She turned to face him despite everything in her body screaming to run for the hills. The man exuded an aura of raw power more akin to a dragon – that kind of strength had to be respected. “C-can I help you, sir?”

“Have you seen a man in a coat with a split skull on it?” He asked, one hand on his hip. “I’ve been looking for him.” Oh dear, oh dear. Another Gold adventurer? Did God Hand run off again?

“N-no, sorry.”

“Is that so? I can smell him on you.” After a short pause during which the blonde grew progressively redder in the face, the stranger decided to reflect on his word choice. “So to say.” Well, “reflect” might have been generous.

“Um, well, er...”

“It’s okay. I mean no harm.” Somehow, Priestess wasn’t reassured by that statement. “All I want is to find this old friend of mine. It’s not unlike you Earth Mother’s priests to lie to strangers now, is it?”

“Are we having a problem here?” Wizard’s voice reached both of them as the redhead approached the scene with a stern look. Behind her was another spellcaster – a voluptuous witch with long purple hair, idly smoking a pipe as she assessed the situation with a vaguely amused look.

White Coat turned to look at them, tilting his head ever so slightly. “No. I don’t think we do. I’m just looking for a friend.”

“You’ve heard her. She hasn’t seen him.” The man let out a quiet chuckle. Wizard, for her part, was happy to have a Silver Tag adventurer willing to back her up on this endeavor.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that. Well, whenever you recall, little priestess, be sure to give me a holler. I’ll be around.” Thus, he turned on his heel and left, striding forward with the same arrogant air about him.

“What a curious man.” The purple-haired Witch hummed in amusement, slowly dragging out syllables. “Such strength… yet such arrogance.”

“I sure hope we won’t see him again.” Wizard shook her head, approaching the still-shaken Priestess. “You okay there?”

“Y-yeah, I think so. Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it. It’s what you do for your teammates.”

\----

Something was definitely amiss.

This was the fourth goblin nest in a row where Goblin Slayer’s earlier scouting yielded different results than actually counting the goblins inside. The differences seemed to be in a number of Hobgoblins and Goblin Champions – or, perhaps, some evolutionary step between these two subgroups – and, more startlingly, in spotting new types of goblins.

Goblin Slayer, being himself, was more than prepared for these occurrences. The new goblins seemed to be less proper goblins and more some kind of a parasitic creature that emerged from a slain goblin from time to time. Covered in spikes and ugly growths, often missing an upper part of their heads, they moved erratically and usually with little sense to their names. Unfortunately, they proved more than resilient to damage and seemed to have no evident weak spots. Fortunately, they would often lash out at remaining goblins first, making it easier for him to approach them once they would tire themselves out.

Goblin Slayer theorized that these must be fragments of goblins’ souls – if they even had those – trying to defy him one last time. It would certainly explain why the emerging creatures were so hideous and dangerous. Still, methodically he cut through the threats both familiar and unknown, eventually finding the abducted woman. She was, give or take, the age his sister was when…

No thinking about that now. All goblins were dead, children included. The job was done. His arm was broken from miscalculating how strong the Champion would hit him, but fortunately he was fine otherwise, keeping the woman up as they steadily put one foot in front of the other… at least until they reached the cave entrance. Someone was coming this way – and it wasn’t an adventurer.

“Oi, _hombre_!” The man approaching was positively obese. Goblin Slayer took in the sheer abundance of strange details to his appearance: somewhat dark skin, the praying beads around his neck, prominently balding head, the white suit that seemed like it would fit more on someone several sizes smaller and younger, the smoking cigar in his teeth… “Are the goblins still there?!”

“...no.” The man seemed disappointed at the answer, his shoulders slumping dejectedly.

“ _Mierda_. I was hoping to talk some sense into that shaman of theirs. Stupid goblins, dying so soon.”

“I, for one, do not mind.” Hm. “Talk some sense” seemed like a strange euphemism for killing a goblin. Why only a shaman though? Goblin Slayer tilted his head slightly. “Are you an Adventurer?”

“Oh no, _amigo_ , I’m just a messenger. Boss could use someone smaller and more fit, but nooo, make the old [name] do it.” Despite his complaining, the man seemed much faster and more agile than his unhealthy frame would suggest. For his ridiculous look, he was definitely a noteworthy fighter. “But with goblins, they’d probably just try and shank you if you sent someone smaller, so maybe it makes sense. Bunch ‘o _huevons_.”

“...goblins respect only their individual selves. To even think of cowing one into servitude, one would have to be a ruthless warlord. If that is the case however, then I guess I will be killing their horde if they seek to use it.” Third Deva tilted his head as this awkward conversation dragged on. The man behind the armor was a human, no doubt about it, but the way he talked certainly made him sound like some sort of mindless drone instead.

Well, the task was to stay incognito for the time being, so he would have to skip on this particular snack. Canned food always left him with a sore stomach either way, and the woman had been at the mercy of the goblins for some time. That would be like stuffing your fresh duck with sewage water; the thought alone made him shudder.

“Take care.” Goblin Slayer nodded at the stranger, striding forward with the woman in tow. Third Deva watched him go with a puzzled look. Hm. He’s heard some rumors about some knight in a shining armor killing goblins left and right in the Frontier, but this man was neither shining nor particularly knightly. And yet, the Deva was all but certain that down the line, that man would become an issue.

Maybe they could just use the goblins as fodder to throw at the wall in hope something sticks. He sure hoped so. Working with the little monsters left him devoid of appetite.

\----

“I think we’re making progress.”

One small quest after the other, the rookie party was all in all doing quite well. They might not have been much stronger or more experienced, but they’ve gotten used to working with each other which, in Monk’s eyes, was the most important thing in their team composition. It was really telling that they went into their first quest right off the bat, without any proper knowledge of not just the goblins, but themselves. Without the extraordinary help from both God Hand and Goblin Slayer, grisly fate would await them.

The main problem that they were facing, she thought, was that she and Warrior both excelled in the same thing: frontline combat. Priestess was their defensive support, and Wizard was the offensive one. The two of them were beginning to gear up their miracle/spell selection appropriately (the latter in particular), but between her and Warrior, they had to try and make sure they didn’t step on each other’s toes. He didn’t ditch his too-big sword, but at least he decided to train up on a different weapon.

She watched with mild interest as a Silver Tag Spearman – apparently a teammate of a Witch that tutored Wizard – pulled Warrior’s meager defenses apart time and again in their mock fight. Her friend was trying his best to make use of the training shortsword to score a hit on his opponent, but he might as well have been fighting against the coming storm. The discrepancy between their skill levels was simply too high. Then again, some said that pain is a good teacher, and Warrior would most definitely be sore by the end of this routine.

Monk’s thoughts briefly went back to God Hand. She didn’t have an opportunity to talk with the Gold Tag that much, but the ease and fluidity of his martial art amazed her even a couple of days after. She wanted to move with the same amount of confidence as him somewhere down the line. No doubt this was a matter of experience, but she couldn’t help but think back to that kick. That one single kick that sent a hobgoblin flying through the corridor like it was made of paper.

She didn’t realize she was shifting into the pose pre-kick until she caught sight of Priestess looking at her with a tilted head. “Hm? What’s up?”

“Oh, um… you’re doing the same pose God Hand did before he kicked a hobgoblin.” Monk looked down at her feet. Huh. How about that? Well, why not make use of it?

“I guess I kinda wanted to ask him how to do all this cool stuff.” She laughed, looking forward, imagining a green menacing brute bearing down on her. The kick didn’t have to hit the jaw – these were easy to duck under – but hitting too low wouldn’t make for an effective kick either. “I know it’s probably just experience and that arm of his, but… man… imagine if I could” Monk twisted her body forward, kicking the imaginary hob right in the solar plexus. “do that.”

“With luck and time, we should be able to grow that far. I think.”

“Honestly, thinking doesn’t seem like a helpful thing here. Feeling. I think you need to have a right feeling with that kind of strike.” She lowered her leg and kicked again. “Don’t think. Feel. You can think once the hit doesn’t do its job.”

“That seems a bit reckless.” Her party seemed to be more taken in with Goblin Slayer’s ruthless approach instead. That was why Warrior switched to a shorter sword and why Wizard began exploring spells of utility rather than raw power. Not that this kind of idea didn’t have its own charm. Kicking a hobgoblin in a shin and then poking its eyes out sounded entirely plausible a solution.

“Well, it would be cool to put that kind of kick into a practical situation.” Slowly, Monk straightened back up, stretching. In the background, Warrior fell down on his tush yet again, swept off his feet by Spearman’s length of stick. “I just… God Hand and Goblin Slayer feel like two extremes put together, like fire and ice.”

“No arguments there.”

“One’s what all Adventurers strive to be, right?” The brunette threw out a bunch of punches at the imaginary opponent, light on her feet as she weaved between the incoming enemies. “Boisterous, powerful, stylish, with a big name.”

“To be fair, most Gold adventurers don’t have someone chasing them around with a hatchet...” Priestess pointed out, recalling how Hatchet Girl all but routed God Hand out of the Guild building. “...well, most adventurers period.” Monk shrugged: the idea was still the same.

“And then you have the other guy: in basic armor, with little to no need for recognition, who has just been killing goblins his entire life.” Apparently that was how Goblin Slayer got his Silver tag: by doing nothing but goblin quests for ten years (according to Guild Girl’s word). Considering how lowly these were considered, just how many goblin nests were destroyed entirely by this man? How could he stand to do the same thing for a whole decade, over and over again?

That kind of dedication was sought after by many martial artists. “They’re both amazing despite being so different from each other.” The combo of blows was finished by a roundhouse kick. This time, however, the enemy was real for once. Her foot was caught, and the only reasons she didn’t lose balance and inelegantly land on her tush was because the catcher had enough strength to his name.

God Hand let her leg go, looking unusually bashful for himself. Behind him was the woman in blue, keeping herself from giggling – Hatchet Girl. “This big lug isn’t used to such earnest compliments.” She explained, taking in the growing embarrassment on Monk’s face like a fine wine. Priestess, for her part, wondered just how on earth did these two appear here without any warning.

“S-shut up… crazy woman...”

In the background, Warrior was knocked out cold after his seventh attempt.

\----

As it turned out, God Hand’s visit was not incidental.

“That’s what he gets for skipping out on a royal meeting.” Hatchet Girl chuckled. The two of them, as well as three out of the four rookies (Warrior was still out cold). “An official reassignment to The Frontier to be its main guardian.”

“Is that really alright though? I’ve heard that all Gold and Platinum adventurers have their hands full with demon forces.” Wizard pointed out.

“Actually, God Hand is the weakest of Gold adventurers.” Hatchet Girl hummed. Predictably, the big lug grumbled from over his mug of ale. “He’s still a right monster, but he cannot hold a candle to the others.”

“Is that right? But you were so strong back there at the goblin nest...” Monk mused, more to herself than to the others. “Oh! Right, before I forget: could you teach me how to do that kick?”

“...beg your pardon?”

“Well, lookie here: you already have students.” It seemed that God Hand’s troubles in life were Hatchet Girl’s main source of entertainment. Priestess had to wonder how these two managed to meet and tolerate each other for so long. “But yeah, the King thinks it’s fine to spare one Gold adventurer from the grisly conflict on the frontlines.”

“Well… I guess there’s some stuff to beat up here...” Wizard and Priestess exchanged glances: that was a tone of a man incredibly deep in his own denial. “Uh, what’s the name of that big… worm… thing?”

“It’s a rock-eater.”

“Yeah, that. Also, goblins. And, uh… what are you kids fighting usually…?” He asked the rookies, desperately wanting a satisfying answer.

“Wild animals… a couple of minor zombies… giant rats… there were some slimes...” Priestess counted some of the adversaries they had to face in recent days. Each mention made God Hand look more and more dismayed. “S-sorry.”

“Also, think of all the paperwork that you hate.” Hatchet Girl nudged the unfortunate Gold tag with a chuckle. “Of all the official responsibilities. You’ve been promoted, big lug.”

“Please, just… just give me a rope there.”

“Hey now, it might not be as exciting as fighting demons, but it’s not like there aren’t things to do here.” Monk cut into the conversation, trying for her best reassuring smile. Before God Hand could voice what he thinks about “things”, Priestess stirred with a startled gasp.

“O-oh, right… um...”

“Something wrong?”

“...the man in the white coat.” Wizard picked up with a frown. “Some guy in sunglasses was asking for you.” God Hand tilted his head quizzically. “Sounded like he really wanted to see you.”

“Don’t know anyone like that.” Something was amiss however: Hatchet Girl’s peppy demeanor from earlier disappeared as if scrubbed clean. “White coat _and_ sunglasses though? Next you’ll tell me he had a tribal tattoo and talked like the world owned him a huge favor.” Well, that wasn’t awfully specific in the slightest. After seeing the long faces of both Priestess and Wizard, God Hand’s vaguely amused smile disappeared. “Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“I think I know who that might be…” Hatchet Girl murmured, attention of everyone at the table turning to her. “And if that is indeed him, well… big lug, you’ll have work cut out for you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Demon Kings have come and went over the millennia. One of the more notorious ones was this close to conquering the universe of Praying Races, until a warrior of impeccable renown stood forth to oppose him. With his two arms alone he crushed the demon army of the Demon King, and sealed him away. In light of their ruler’s effective death, his underlings fought for dominance until a new Demon King emerged to menace the Good of the world. As for the warrior, he continued to oppose Evil and teach new generations of warriors for years to come until he passed. His arms were preserved by an ancient tribe. God Hands, they called them.

While one of them carried phenomenal power, having two would make someone akin to a god… or to a demon king.

\----

“Fourth Deva, there better be a good reason for you summoning all of us here.” First Deva, in a suit as terrible as his withering glare, stared at the man in sunglasses. The four of them – one of Demon King’s elite units – were assigned to this undisclosed location in the Frontier to plan nefarious ideas in a land that could not be suspected of a demon invasion. No Demon King in their right mind would bother with the Frontier, unless they were a shrewd and cunning type.

Or, perhaps, they needed to get rid of some loser employees. Demons had a hierarchy, and those bounded by weak forms of Praying Races were considered the lowest of the low, even if what they could unleash was a terrifying force. The Four Deva were the mightiest of the weakest – which was kind of sad and kind of awesome at the same time.

“I have a reasonable suspicion to believe that the other God Hand is in the Frontier.” Fourth Deva, ever unflappable – and perhaps the only person at the table who believed their own hype – replied with a shrug. “I sensed his presence.”

“Sensed his presence, huh? Sounds like a lot of hot air to me, _cabron_.” Third Deva shook his head. “This place has piss-for-shit as far as things worth fighting are concerned. He wouldn’t be here, that crazy _huevon_.”

“I guess he might have wanted a break? Isn’t he a bad boy kind of maverick?” Second Deva questioned – while stretching seductively. “Being on top can be very stimulating, you know.”

“I am but a messenger. It is puzzling to me that his presence was felt on a fledgling adventurer – an Earth Mother priestess, even.” Third Deva choked on his cigar for a moment.

“ _Que?!_ You mean he likes them that young and innocent? Who’s a demon here now?”

“[name], we eat people. And do other _fun_ stuff with them.” Second Deva pointed out with a giggle.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with eating a _huevon_ or three. Humans, in particular.”

“You’re eating for all of us, really.”

“To go back to the main topic...” First Deva, already feeling a headache coming to him, addressed the entire group. “If God Hand is present, our mission will be in jeopardy. Given our limited resources” No one present wanted to use goblins for anything other than target practice – but them were the breaks. They were all on a tight budget. “we must make sure he’s out of sight and out of mind. Third Deva, that will be your task.”

“Got it, boss. Oh, by the way… I met this weird _hombre_ yesterday. Full armor pieced together from garbage, talked like he never smiled in his life, Silver Tag, red plume on his helmet. I’ve been trying to beat some sense into those goblins, right, to make sure we can recruit them. Off comes the Garbage Warrior _pendejo_ , caked in grime, with a woman in tow, acting like he didn’t just clear out a whole goblin nest by himself, Champions and all.”

“Silver Tags are that skilled. I don’t see a problem?” Second Deva tilted her head quizzically.

“But that’s the weirdest thing! That man didn’t look like a Silver Tag at all. No magic weapons, no artifacts, nothing of value. And he had to clear out Goblin Demons we slapped into a few of these green shits, too. I checked in – not a sight of any greenskin inside. Not even the children.”

“Demon King’s left horn… must be this Goblin Slayer I keep hearing about...” First Deva’s brows furrowed in annoyance. Figures that there would be an anti-goblin specialist in this sorry place.

“Wait, for real?! I thought he’s just the myth!” Second Deva perked up. “I’ve heard all the stories, they sell like hotcakes! You sure you didn’t meet some sorry imitator?”

“Bards do have a tendency to exaggerate.” Fourth Deva mused, arms folded over his chest. “I am quite certain no one would make a career of imitating a man who slays goblins. Most Adventurers are too vain for that.”

“Well, consider me interested!”

“Come on, _chica_ , don’t tell me you’re that interested in some ramshackled _cabron_. The real stuff’s right here!” With a boisterous laugh, Third Deva flexed his unseen muscles.

“Bleh. In your dreams, fatass!”

“Don’t act like you don’t love a man’s girth.” Aha. Fourth Deva sighed, watching yet another daily ritual of demon courting – a sorry thought to begin with – during which Third Deva would make his way to Second Deva over the table, get a couple of heeled kicks to the face, and then both of them would get chastised by First Deva. The man (demon) really loved that table, and any offense to it was met with swift reproach.

“Off the table!” Which is exactly what happened. The cold black marble lit up with green fire, sending the two bickering Devas back to their seats. “Enough. Third Deva, you will deal with the God Hand. Second Deva, investigate into this Goblin Slayer. Deal with him appropriately.”

“Pleasure’s all mine~”

“Alright, fine. You’re the boss, boss.”

“As for you, Fourth Deva… you may continue your own research. Just try not to pick any fights.” The man in a white coat rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses. He would _never_. It wasn’t like anyone in the Frontier could hold a candle to him anyway. “The meeting’s adjourned.”

\----

Goblin Slayer came bearing grim tidings.

“Increased goblin activity?” Guild Girl asked, feeling her brows furrow. It was rare of him to make reports other than “I’ve slain all the goblins”. It must have been a significant change.

“Yes. More Champions, as well as new brands of goblins.” The receptionist blanched.

“New ones? Oh dear, that’s troubling. Can you describe them in detail?”

“Somewhat taller than average human height. Lanky, dirty green in color.” As he went on, Guild Girl’s pen worked its mundane day-to-day magic in collecting data. “Naked. Long claws. Knife-blade ears. Missing upper head.” The pen stopped. The receptionist looked at Goblin Slayer, as if to make sure she didn’t misheard. “Flames emerge from there. Move fast, to a point of teleporting, but without rhyme or reason. Target fellow goblins now and then. Most importantly, they emerge from slain goblins from time to time. There seems to be no discernible pattern to determine which goblins house them.”

“Are you… sure they are goblins?”

“What else would they be?” ...now while that wasn’t an unfair point – goblins were usually sole willing residents of their own nests, odd tamed wolves aside – the description seemed more akin to some sort of phantasmal creature that had no business being in a goblin nest to begin with. Goblin shamans could make pacts with minor demons, but to have one emerge from a killed greenskin? That seemed like a particularly insidious kind of sorcery, the kind that average goblins couldn’t possibly have. “What matters is that they can be killed.”

“I can’t disagree with that kind of statement.” Still, it seemed that something was happening in the background, here in the sleepy Frontier. Before Guild Girl could dwell on it any further, a couple of familiar faces showed up. “Ah, welcome. Back from a quest?”

“Sure did. We got rid of all wild boars in the Farmer’s Woods.” Warrior, having invested in some new armor, smiled proudly. The rest of the rookie team was with him, each of them having made some kind of improvement in equipment since the last time Goblin Slayer saw them. “Ah, Mr. Goblin Slayer. Good to see you!”

“...you too.” It wasn’t the usual kind of reaction he got from his fellow Adventurers, so the Silver Tag took a moment to reply. “Good hunting?”

“A flawlessly-done quest, if I may say so myself.” Wizard nodded. Her staff was reinforced with some steel for close-combat encounters, and she seemed to be in a much better shape than the last time. “Hope same’s with you.”

“Quite. All goblins have been slain, new breeds or otherwise.”

“New types of goblins?” Priestess asked. She seemed more confident with herself. Good. Improvements as an Adventurer didn’t end on getting situation-appropriate gear.

“I, um, I don’t think they are goblins...” Guild Girl interrupted nervously, shrinking a little when Goblin Slayer looked back at her.

“Is that so? What would they be then?”

“Sounds like demons.” Yet another familiar presence made itself known: the Gold Tag Adventurer from earlier, one God Hand, accompanied by a girl in blue with no tag to her name.

“By the way, he’s been waiting outside to make a dramatic entrance for like ten minutes now.” Hatchet Girl was quick to poke some fun at her erstwhile companion, much to his chagrin.

“I did not! We just got here.”

“Oh! H-hey there.” Monk waved nervously. They didn’t actually see neither of the two earlier. Where exactly were they waiting? Who knew?

“Good day, God Hand.” Goblin Slayer nodded. “Why the assertion?”

“Dealt with those before. Never had them pop out of goblins though.”

“Something to do with that White Coat man?” Priestess asked, shuddering despite herself. One could only hope they would never have to meet that man again.

“Could be, either him or his peers.” Hatchet Girl nodded. “Anyway, Guild Girl, can we bother you for a moment once the reporting’s done? This big lug has to fill in the paperwork.” God Hand made a face of a man tortured for way too long.

\----

With the rest of the rookie party deciding to retire for the afternoon – although Wizard made a sound suggestion not to go drinking again, since Warrior had been a hassle to drag back to the room when out cold – Monk was on her own for the time being.

They were one quest away from reaching the Steel rank. How did they get so far so quickly? Why was she suddenly thinking of dice rolls and 20’s, for whatever reason? Who knew? Certainly not her. Still, sometimes it was better not to know something. She sat on the bench overlooking the river, watching the boats pass by. A nearby food stall was selling ice-cream, and she figured she can afford a brief moment of respite.

Demons popping out of goblins? Some group named Four Devas that planned a resurrection of a notorious Demon King? Their group probably wouldn’t be dealing with such exotic and outrageous threats if not for their familiarity with God Hand. They had yet to see these though – no one was eager to take up a goblin quest again – and so she couldn’t help but wonder. What kind of adventure was this going to be?

“Hey there. You not with the rest of the group?” Monk almost jumped in her seat, brought back from her wondering by God Hand’s voice. The Gold adventurer waved as he approached, falling back onto the other end of the bench with a tired sigh. Seems like dealing with administrative paperwork was more taxing than one would think. “Yeesh. I don’t envy Sword Maiden in the slightest. She has to deal with that shit daily.”

“Sword Mai-oh, you mean the archbishop of Water Town?” She heard Priestess mention – and fangirl over, it was kinda cute – the blind ex-Adventurer that presided over the Cathedral of the Supreme God a couple of times. “I didn’t know you know her.”

“All Gold Adventurers know each other, more or less. I don’t think she likes me very much though.” God Hand chuckled, leaning back and looking at the sky. The blue was giving away to the crimson of a twilight, slowly but surely. “Too much of a loose cannon, I’m told.” Monk could see from where that assessment came from. “Anyway, what are you doing here on your own?”

“Oh, I just… was in a thoughtful mood, I guess. Taking in everything you and Hatchet Girl told us.”

“Don’t go off hunting yourself some demons now.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t think we’re prepared for that.” Even if they were some kind of stunted demon goblins. “So, what will you do now?”

“If that White Coat schmuck doesn’t show up, all I have to do is sit pretty, shake hands with officials, and handle paperwork.” God Hand’s face turned sour for a moment. “It sounds like hell. I’d rather be stomping out giant rats than deal with that.”

“Yeah, I can see why… adventurers adventure, right?” Oh gods, that line was so _terrible!_ What on earth was she thinking-

“Preach it, Monk Girl.” Oh. Well, roll with it. She was thankful he wasn’t looking at her at the moment; it would be much more difficult to hide her breath of relief, or the brief blush. “You said earlier you wanted to learn how to Dragon Kick?”

“...t-that’s how it’s called?!” Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to hide the excitement in her voice. “I mean, er, well… t-that’d be nice...”

“Well, the bad news is, you won’t be able to.” God Hand was not the one to beat around the bush. Monk blinked in disbelief before her shoulders slumped dejectedly. “I get to do all these cool stunts chiefly thanks to this baby.” Here he flexed the arm adorned with the silver brace.

“Oh… I see...”

“ _But_ maybe we could figure out some kind of a watered-down version for you. Newbie’s first Dragon Kick, if you will. We’ll call it a Wyvern Kick or something.” Monk thought that “Wyvern Kick” made for a pretty respectable attack name, all in all. “Or Whelp Kick? Or Snake Kick, that could work.”

“I’m good with Wyvern Kick myself.” God Hand picked himself off the bench, stretching. “Um… thank you for your time.”

“Psh. Don’t thank me yet, kid. I’ve never taught a man in my life. You doing something tomorrow morning?” She thought about the answer. They would probably only set out adventuring around noon. A good night’s sleep went a long way. Plus, having been long accustomed to rising early – part of her pre-Adventurer routine training with her late father – they would have the whole pre-noon to work out the kinks.

“I’ll be up by sunrise.” God Hand raised an eyebrow.

“Guess you’re serious about this, huh? Nine o’clock works for you?”

“Yes, sir!” She rose from her seat after him, feeling the rising excitement. She would train with not just any Gold adventurer, but with a man of peerless martial arts!

“Oh my _god_ , don’t call me a sir. I feel like I’m in my forties for that.” Don’t put foot in mouth, Monk thought, feeling the embarrassed blush creep up on her cheek. “Alright. Nine o’clock, right outside the southern city gate. Make sure you’re warmed up.”

“How… old are you, actually?”

“Twenty two.” Monk stared incredulously. “...what?”

\----

The next day, the great training would begin. Well, hopefully.

The brunette didn’t expect God Hand to bail on her when she already managed to convince him to tutor her, but, in Wizard’s wise words, “it paid off to expect disappointment”. A far cry from her first slogan, “my magic is peerless!”, back when they were starting off. Has it really been only a couple weeks at best?

For now, under a watch of mildly amused gate guards (“Eh. Let them watch.”), she kept herself warmed up, moving from one figure to another. Moving with great fluidity, the butterfly kick transitioned into a high kick with almost no pause. From there, she brought her leg down for an axe kick, and then began moving forward with series of straights and jabs. The imaginary hobgoblin was getting pummeled with extreme prejudice.

“Morning training?” Unfortunately, she still hasn’t worked on not jumping when startled. It was a good thing she wasn’t in the middle of a kick, or the guards would get a chuckle out of an inelegant failure. She turned to see Goblin Slayer. The same equipment and armor, as always.

“Mr. Slayer, good morning. Just warming up before training. God Hand said he’ll teach me how to do the **Dragon Kick**.” Monk blinked. What was this odd feeling when she mentioned the move’s name? Huh.

“Is that so? Can you perform it?”

“Not the real deal, but a weaker version might not be far off.” The Silver tag nodded.

“Sometimes it pays off knowing a weaker version of something. It makes you more likely to be underestimated.” He knew what he talked about, she could tell. With his methodical goblin slaying, to a child – she still couldn’t help but shudder a little at that memory – no goblin knew of him well enough to assume much of him. They saw a single Adventurer in basic equipment, and likely thought easy pickings. “Either way, good training to you.”

“Good hunting to you too.” Where else would he go if not on another Goblin Quest? Monk watched the veteran go off for a while before resuming her warm-up routine. In the middle of another kick she couldn’t but overhear the guards chatting between themselves, talking about “the goblin weirdo”. Hm. Goblin Slayer didn’t have much of a reputation outside the Guild? (Guild Girl spoke very highly of him. It was kind of cute too) Well, let them talk. Goblin Slayer didn’t seem to care much for his reputation, and those in the know knew better.

“Wonder why he bothered that cute Monk though. He’s been seen with some rookies recently, too...”

“Actually, isn’t she a part of that one Obsidian team? They have that booby witch, and that cutie-pie priestess, too… And I guess the guy’s there, too, if you’re into guys.”

“You think he’s extorting them or something? Some Silver tag.”

“I bet he stole that tag from someone worth their salt. Getting that far on slaying goblins alone? What a laugh. I could kill three goblins at once with my eyes close.”

“Hey!” She’s been listening for a while now, but enough was enough. “How dare you speak of him like that?! Do you know who that man even is?!”

“Yeah, some schmuck who rolled in a landfill!” One of the guards quipped right back at her, accompanied by the other’s chortle. “Come on, kid, you should know better than that.”

“The man’s a professional who takes care of something nearly no one else does!” She countered, shaking her head with a frown. “Goblins are more dangerous than people think they are.”

“Pft, yeah right. I killed four the other day. They were running with tails between their legs.”

“Try that in their own nest, tough guy, surrounded and with hobs bearing down on you!”

“Listen here, brat.” The first guard snarled, clearly getting annoyed with the discussion. “Just because you’re an Adventurer doesn’t mean you can talk shit to your betters. We’re doing our work, it’s not our fault you can’t do yours!”

“You guys sure are doing your work.”

“What the hell do you-” The guard turned towards the unknown voice, only to see a stern countenance and a glimmer of a Gold tag. “...uh…”

“I’m late five minutes, and you already got yourself into an argument with these goobers.” God Hand passed right by the two befuddled guards, chuckling. Monk tinted red with embarrassment. “Let them talk. Like they know shit.”

“Yes, sir...”

“W-wait, who the hell are you?!” The second guard spoke up. “There are no Gold adventurers here, fraud! This is the Frontier!”

“They are now. You can take it up with Guild Girl if you need to keep yapping at someone.” The martial artist stretched up and then rolled his neck in a grand display of ignoring the two entirely. “In fact, you guys go do that now, and bring a change of shift.”

“That’s-who the hell…?!”

“Look, buddy, are you blind or deaf or just a moron? Do I need to bite this freakin’ thing?” As much as God Hand disliked having to wear his tag, it did help in solving pesky things like “restricted access” or “classified information” most of the time. “Shoo, shoo.” He added, making a shooing gesture for emphasis. The guards looked at each other uncertainly, then shot Monk a dirty glare – which was met with a defiant look of her own – before making themselves scarce. “Seriously...”

“So that’s what Gold adventurers are like, huh?”

“I’m no Sword Maiden to be recognized everywhere I go, but most people know better than to pick a fight with someone with a Gold tag. Forging fakes is a criminal offense, even more so than ordinary tags – so the guy wearing one is either a moron or a real deal.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.”

“There used to be a bunch of hero wannabes coming out of the woodwork a few years back. Most of them had cardboards painted with gold paint or something shitty like that, but a few had some really convincing forgeries. They called themselves” God Hand made a face that was a cross between amused and disgusted “Heroes from Another World. A whole group of these… The King had a field day with them.”

“But, you know, Gold tags visiting the Frontier is like spotting a Mothman. It’s no wonder these two got mixed up.”

“What’s a Mothman?”

“Exactly.” Monk blinked in confusion. A change of topic was in order. “S-so, about that training...”

“Thought you’ll never ask. Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir!” A long look. “I mean, y-yes!” God Hand rolled his arms and smirked.

“Then let’s make you a God Finger.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first hurdle during their training Monk met almost immediately.

“Hit me.”

“...excuse you?”

“I need to know how strong you can hit a guy.” God Hand shrugged indifferently. “Told you I’m not much of a teacher.”

“Oh, um, no, that’s not a problem, it’s just...” She spared with her father during her training, but she was never told to just straight up hit someone. Even if her new tutor was a Gold adventurer, what if she hit him too well or somewhere vital? No matter how fabulous, he was still a man.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve taken hits from some tough customers over the years.” He assured her with a chuckle, presenting himself wide open for her. “Now, give me your best shot.” Well, there would be no going around it. All that Monk was do was to follow his lead.

As far as combat went, her specialty was a roundhouse kick. It was strong and flashy, but not very fast and left her wide open in case of a whiff or a block. She was planning to branch out eventually, and only use this one in appropriate situations – that was how she knocked the lights out of one of the wild boars the other day. Probably best not to try and hold back: he’d only chastise her for it, she felt.

Taking a deep breath, Monk assumed a combat stance – and then spun almost immediately after, her boot impacting with God Hand’s face dead on. She could feel the visceral feeling of a confirmed hit, the shocking tingle that came from such sudden body-to-body interaction, and the force of her own momentum… and yet, once she lost the latter, her foot stopped on the man’s cheek as if it was a rock.

The girl blinked, shocked at how casually God Hand took her hit. “Not bad. You know, ignoring the fact that your opponent could kick you twice in the same time.” With a nonchalant gesture, he gently pushed her leg away, which was enough for her to lose balance and land on her tush. “I know this is rich coming from me, but strength ain’t everything.”

“Y-yes, sir...” She mumbled, trying and failing not to blush like a ripe tomato. He leaned down, offering her a hand to stand up on, which she gingerly took.

“Let’s try it again. Hit me with that kick again.” The brunette nodded, assuming her combat stance. One deep breath, and she let her leg rip once more – except this time God Hand dashed forward to meet her, stopping her kick before it could even reach him. The sudden lack of distance between them was enough to make her turn red again – and then let out a startled gasp when he jabbed her with his thumb, right under the rib. “And you’re dead as dreams, kid.”

\----

Over the next few hours, they went over the most basic of basics. Contrary to his flashy fighting style, God Hand advertised to learn how to practice the most standard, boring punches and kicks. She knew how to do them, but didn’t complain – it was something she did many times over with her father as well. Work your way from the mound until you can see the mountain, and then scale it and conquer it.

It was the theory after that gave her pause. “Guess that will be enough of that for now. Good effort.” God Hand nodded as the two of them took a seat in the shadow of a great oak near the city gates, savoring some water. The new pair of guards had been watching them for a while, but these two knew better than to bother two martial art weirdos.

“Thank you. I’ll try to work on what you said needs work.”

“Don’t let it stop you from practicing other stuff too. Flexibility is how you win a fight: by always having something up your sleeve to surprise the other guy with.” It was a really sobering thought, Monk mused. Though they were as different as they come, both God Hand and Goblin Slayer praised the same innovative approach. The former simply had a lot more flair to his name. “By the way, kid… what does it mean for you to fight?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You know, why you’re a Monk? Being an Adventurer for profit and glory is one thing, but everyone wants something else out of it too. Like, that Warrior guy apparently wants to be the greatest swordsman in the kingdom.”

“Oh yeah, I guess. It’s been his lifelong dream to reach peerless swordsmanship.”

“You guys know each other for long?”

“Since we were children, really.” Monk leaned back against the log. Wonder what the rest of the group was up to. Hopefully they wouldn’t set out without her… “My parents and his mother were Adventurers once, until they retired to the same village. Those were good days.” The girl’s expression turned melancholic. “Before the plague took Warrior’s mother, he vowed to her he’ll make her proud. It was the same with me once my father was on his deathbed a few years later.”

“Sorry to hear that. And your mom?”

“Don’t really remember her. She died when I was little.” A moment of silence. “What about you, s-God Hand?”

“Well, my dad was one hell of a rake.” The man scratched his head awkwardly. Hatchet Girl was kind enough not to peer into his past – this was in fact a first for him. Did the rookies have to get all emotional and sad about their adventuring these days? “And mom, I don’t even know which of the ladies in his bed was it.”

“O-oh. I’m sorry.”

“Pft. It’s fine.” Monk blinked. “I ran when I was, I dunno, seven-eight? Never looked back. No idea if he’s around still. I was a big kid for my age, so I started beating people up. First for pocket change, then for bigger stuff.” The brunette blinked again. All Adventurers started from somewhere, sure, but she didn’t expect such a glum story from God Hand, of all people. For whatever reason, her thoughts trailed over to Goblin Slayer...

“What I noticed when we trained is that our approach to fighting couldn’t be more different.” The man stood up and stretched. “You’re from a clean, fancy dojo. Fighting is means to an end for you. You probably want to uphold righteous ideals or some shit.”

“I, well...”

“Meanwhile I’m fighting for fighting’s sake. It’s a drug worse than any liquor or whatever the nobles snort in the Capital.” He chuckled, giving a one-two to an imaginary opponent. The hits were short and crisp – Monk could feel how the air rippled around his arms even from here. “That’s how I got that God Hand slapped on me, in fact.”

“I’d still like you to teach me. Well, as much as you can.” She stood up after him, nodding resolutely. God Hand raised an eyebrow and then chuckled. “Nobody said these two styles couldn’t be combined, after all.”

“I like the way you think, kid.”

“...[name].” Monk flushed red. “I m-mean, that’s my name. If y-you’d like to use it, and all...”

“Alright, alright. Let’s start again.” The man offered his divine limb in a silver brace. “I’m [name].” The girl stared at the outstretched hand dumbly before nodding once more and returning the gesture, smiling radiantly. “Pleased to be working with you.” God Hand smiled back.

\----

Cow Girl had never had such a guest.

With Uncle out in the city, it was only her at the farm. Goblin Slayer was out on a quest, but promised to return once he was done with that. He had never gone back on such a promise, and so the redhead knew to trust him. The life at the dairy farm was about as exciting as an average person would think, but it was an honest living and she liked it that way.

Since it was a bit off the beaten path, she didn’t have many guests – and so this particular woman was all the more striking. Dressed in an attire both sexy and imposing, with pink colors, spikes, and a heart-shaped scepter for a weapon – seems she was some sort of mage – she smiled seductively, one shapely leg over the other as she enjoyed the tea. Her companion was even weirder: a huge beastman in a weird mask and tight pants, with a barrel chest full of black hair. There was no chair big enough to accommodate him, but the beastman seemed content to simply stand behind his… Mistress? Princess? Charge? Who knew?

“I’ve been told that you know quite a lot about this Goblin Slayer fellow.” Second Deva hummed from over her tea, fishing for the redhead’s reaction. Really now: blessing a simple farmhand with this much land? That was a king’s generosity, right there.

“Yeah. He’s a dear friend. Why, do you need some help with goblins?”

“Something among these lines.” Naturally, the seductress was well aware that someone as obsessed as Goblin Slayer would not simply stop after asked to stop. She had to put in some additional persuasion. Persuading mortals was, of course, her specialty. “I dare say it might be the biggest goblin quest he’s ever been to.”

“That sounds like a tall order… all goblin quests are the biggest for him.” Cow Girl tilted her head in thought. “Why come here though? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to leave a note in the Guild?”

“I happen to know that he lives here. Figured I’ll simply come and pay a visit. Plus, well, some people in the Guild don’t like me very much.”

“Aw, why’s that? You seem like a nice lady.” And you must have traded all your brains for that dairy farm on your chest, Second Deva thought sourly. “...something on my shirt?” Oh whoops, her eyes were looking down.

“Long story.” The Deva laughed, waving off Cow Girl’s concern. The big beastman in a silly mask shifted in his place, making a small grunt. “Either way, do you know when can we expect him?”

As if tempting fate, accompanied by a natural 1 – and thus depriving the demoness from some spare time to perhaps get more info out of Cow Girl – the aforementioned specialist simply walked in without a pause. “I’m home.” He stated with a flat drone, ignoring the befuddled look from a Second Deva – as well as the huge beastman in silly clothes. “Didn’t know you have guests.”

“Welcome back! Ah, well, actually, the lady here wanted to meet you.”

“Is that so?” Now he looked towards the Deva. “Then why not discuss it outside? Will there be some tea for me too, Cow Girl?”

“Oh yeah, I still have lots. Let me prepare some.” The redhead smiled and left to do as she herself advertised, oblivious of how close she might have come to a terrible death. Goblin Slayer watched her go before heading outside, not beckoning Second Deva nor her bodyguard after him. The two looked at each other before following him.

\----

“Excuse me, Lady Wizard. A moment of your time, if you’d be so kind?”

Wizard looked up from her grimoire (“Seventy Reasons Why Fireballs Suck”) with an incredulous look at a lizardman in a ritual headdress, smiling like a harmless lamb. She had no prior experiences with the race, but it’s been told by many that they weren’t the kind to usually get chummy with Praying Races. And yet, the lizardman was accompanied by two such fellow Adventurers: a green-haired, small elf and a stocky dwarf in foreign clothing. All three of them wore Silver tags on their necks. Veterans from afar.

“We’re looking for Orcbolg. People around the town keep saying you and your team know him.” The elf threw in her own explanation, but that only served to further the redhead’s confusion. Was that Elven? Her linguistics were a little behind, unfortunately.

“Leave it to you, Anvil, to just confuse the poor lass.” Dwarf laughed, ignoring the withering glare the elf shot him. “She means Beard-Cutter.”

“Like she’s gonna know Dwarven any better, you idiot!” Wizard _knew_ Dwarven better than Elven, admittedly, but that word still meant nothing to her.

“My quarreling companions are referring to a fellow known as Goblin Slayer.” Lizard Priest concluded the confusing questions with an enlightening moral. Now that was a name she knew. “We tried asking Lady Priestess, but it seems my reptilian countenance scared her away, for which I can only deeply apologize.”

“Yeah, we know him. I haven’t seen him today though.” The redhead nodded, closing the book on Reason Twenty One (“You know what friendly fire is, right?”). “Did you ask the Guild Girl?”

“We were meaning to, but that lover boy over there” High Elf Archer pointed at Spearman at the desk, trying and failing to flirt with the receptionist, much to her sheepish refusal. “has her pretty distracted.”

“Oh, I can… deal with that… problem.” Wizard’s mentor, the purple-haired Witch, smiled as she approached fellow Silver tags and her protege. “As for Goblin… Slayer, well… you may want… to visit the dairy… farm nearby town.”

“Dairy farm? Now that’s an odd place for a lad of his profession to be in.” Dwarf Shaman mused. Something about the lizardman shifted in the meantime – his eyes sparkled with unbridled joy.

“D-dairy…? Could it, perhaps, be where cheese is made…?” Wizard raised an eyebrow. Her eyes met Witch’s, and the wise look from her mentor simply told to roll with the punches here.

“Quite. Goblin Slayer… has a friend in… the proprietor of… said farm.”

“Incredible! Not only is he the gallant knight of a noble countenance, his tastes too are nothing short of sublime!” Lizard Priest seemed elated at the prospect of meeting the two Witch mentioned.

“I wouldn’t call him a knight. Or gallant, or noble.” Wizard shook her head. High Elf Archer raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s an upstanding guy, but I think you three might have a rose-colored view of him.”

“Is that right? Well, from the mouth of babes ye shall know him.” Dwarf Shaman nodded wisely. “What is Beard-Cutter like?”

“Super intense.” Everyone’s heads turned towards the two newcomers entering the Guild building: a young brunette Monk with a very mean purple bruise under her eye, and a Gold tagged man in a stupid coat with a very conspicuous teeth mark on his bicep. Right after them rushed in Priestess, looking more than enough worried for the two of them. “Goblins now, goblins then, goblins forever. You won’t find a second man more dedicated to his job.” God Hand nodded sagely, trying and ignoring the fact that he and Monk looked positively bruised up.

“...what the hell have you two been doing?” Wizard frowned, adjusting her glasses. The brunette looked away sheepishly.

“Training.”

“What she said.”

\----

Once their blonde healer was done casting all of her daily Minor Heals on the two overeager martial artists, it was Hatchet Girl’s turn to lay down the (verbal) smackdown, once she arrived at the scene.

“More like a God Dumb!” She smacked the hapless Gold tag across the head with a newspaper. The headline read “Gold Adventurer appointed to the Frontier”. “One, you missed the meeting with the Governor. Two, since when are you training anyone but yourself?!”

“Oh, lay off me!” He rolled his eyes, avoiding the second newspaper smack with a nonchalant sway. “It’s fine.”

“You’re a big guy. You should know better than give her a black eye.”

“It’s f-fine. I didn’t feel a thing.” Mostly because she clocked out the moment his hook connected with her face. The next thing Monk knew, she woke up with a wet face and her very concerned teacher holding the water bottle over her. Not that the spar wasn’t enlightening, even if the main rule she learned from it was “anything goes”. A little disheartening, but what possibilities it opened for further growth! (like adding bite attacks to the repertoire)

“See? She says it’s fine.”

“Dammit, [name]. I know it was only yesterday, but you got promoted! You need to start acting like it!”

“Well, I didn’t _ask_ to be promoted, did I?”

“Because you flunked on the meeting with a King! Gee, I wonder where that came from!” Monk couldn’t help but feel uneasy. God Hand and Hatchet Girl seemed like good friends – even if of a vitriolic kind – so to see them butt heads like that felt a lot like her fault. Maybe if she didn’t ask him to tutor him…? But how could she not? Wouldn’t she be throwing away the biggest opportunity of her life? Who knew?

“Look, just… if you want to teach her” Here Hatchet Girl looked at the brunette with a look of pity, reserved for someone who was not aware what pits of deep excrement they were getting into. “then you’ll have to find the time for other, boring stuff too, alright? That’s what’s expected of you now.”

“Ugh. What are you, my mom?”

“Clearly you need someone to baby you.” A bit of silence. “Whatever. Just try not to mess up again. It’s not like you can’t get demoted.” Monk shifted in her seat uneasily. Demotion, for a Gold adventurer? Was that even legal? It seemed God Hand was concerned with the notion too, even if he was much better at not showing it. “As for you, young lady, try not to bite him too much. He might grow to like it.” Any concern gave way to first-hand embarrassment as Monk made a sound that was… something indescribable, hiding her red hot face in her hands. Hatchet Girl giggled and gave her a pat on the head. “Eight in the morning, in the Governor’s office. Don’t make me drag you there.” With this one last warning for God Hand, the blue-clad woman left them to their own devices.

“So… I guess we were scolded, huh.” The man leaned back after the painful silence proved too much for both of them. Still too embarrassed to uncover her face, Monk could only grunt in agreement. “Sorry to put you through it.”

“It’s fine. I was asking you for a spar, after all.” Another moment of silence. “I just hope she won’t be mad at you for too long.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He replied with a cavalier attitude, but something in the way he shifted in his place – Monk caught the movement from between her fingers – suggested otherwise. “God Hand this, God Hand that – I want to kick back and do other stuff once in a while too.”

“I mean… if you are to do governing stuff, you shouldn’t probably be seen by anyone near me.”

“Pfft, says who? If any detractors show up, I’m happy to take them in for a spin, one broken nose at a time.”

“That’s just gonna make it worse though.” God Hand frowned. The girl was right, yeah. It would be a pain in the ass, at the very least. “They might think we’re piggybacking off you or something...”

“Well, we’ll see how it goes. I shouldn’t skip on that Governor meeting now that Hatchet Girl already told me off, I guess...”

“I guess we will...”

\----

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Monk blinked, turning to look at Warrior. Their leader’s face was all swelled up – part of his own training; today he was under the wings of the Silver duo of Heavy Swordsman and Noble Knight – but he didn’t seem too much bothered by that. “Hm? Oh, sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?”

“I was asking what you’re thinking about.” What _was_ she thinking about? Maybe that she was being tutored by God Hand? Or about the trouble he got in because of her? It wasn’t like this was _that_ strange, right? “You were awfully distracted the whole day. Hope God Hand didn’t hit you too hard.”

“If he did, I’d probably not have a head anymore.” The girl laughed, walking over to her bed. Wizard and Priestess were already asleep in theirs, so it was just the two of them. “Sorry, just… trying to take it all in. Didn’t think he’d actually teach me. I mean, he’s a Gold tag.”

“He sure doesn’t act like it.” Warrior shook his head, shuffling under the covers of his own bed and idly stretching. “Like, I get it when you’re showing off or when you’re confident, but it’s just...”

“It’s fine. I can tell you don’t like him.” The leader’s face turned sour for a moment.

“I don’t. I think staying around him is bad news.” It was true that hanging with a Gold Tag would invite more dire threats upon them; it was only natural. “I’m happy that you learned from him, but the worlds we live in are two different beasts.”

“Funny. The old you would not be this cautious.”

“The old me would get mobbed by goblins on his first quest.” Warrior laughed, gesturing to the longsword perched up in the corner. He had more opportunities to use it now that they were taking more open-air quests, but it seemed that a shortsword became his primary means of fighting for the time being. “So I’m happy that I’ve learned something, at least.”

“Feeling’s mutual. Still, I think that we’ll be seeing less of him all in all, once Hatchet Girl gets him to work behind the desk. Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t even read.” Warrior chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. “You think we can become great?”

“I think we’re pretty great already.” Monk giggled, kicking off her boots as she sat at the edge of her bed. “We’re one quest away from Steel, and we already know each other so well. And to think we pretty much picked Wizard and Priestess on our way to the first quest like they were some strays.”

“That’s kind of hurtful to say, isn’t it?”

“It really is. I’m glad they’re not awake to hear it.”

“Well, I say we’re doing fine all in all.” Warrior hummed, resting his head on his arms. “As long as we don’t get in over our heads.”

What the rookies did not know was that it wasn’t meant to last. Once someone ties their fate with God Hand, wacky misadventures await them one way or another. A sobering start into the new life. As the large troupe wagon adorned with a facsimile of a huge, muscular man holding the words “Carnival Extravaganza Extraordinaire” rolled by the gates of Frontier Town and stopped just shy of it, the winds of fate have changed.

The dice have been cast.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, talk about a stupid premise and a stupid crossover. Still, it was sitting on my mind for a bit now, so here you go: can the wackiness of God Hand and the premise of Goblin Slayer be held together and not fall apart? Who knows? I don't, which is why I'll endeavor to see where this goes. Can't say if this will be continued, but if it does, expect a lot of weird shenanigans.


End file.
